Sunday check-in

Too hot to accomplish anything right now. Gads, it’s so nice to be able to say “too hot” when talking about the coastal NorthWET.

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One thing I did accomplish this weekend: I got my entries ready for the county fair. Tomorrow is submission day for all the artsy-craftsy stuff.

Feels kinda silly to be doing this. I wouldn’t have entered anything in a fair when I was 10. Or 14. So why am I doing it now that I’m (mumble mumble)?

Because when I was 10 or 14, I’d have approached the whole project with one big whine: “I nnnevvvvver winnnnnn annnnything.”

It was true. If there were three ribbons being given out, I’d place fourth. If five scholarships were in the offing, I’d be sixth. I hated that! Alas, it never occurred to me that I could just work smarter or try harder or practice more. I thought it was all about some mysteriously innate “talent” (or lack thereof) and I was dooooooomed forever to mere above-averageness.

Mere above-averageness is all I ever have achieved, thanks to being a fool. But given the small talent pool hereabouts I’m ruthlessly confident I’ll crush the competition.

Partly because I’m likely to be the only competition in some categories. 🙂

So off I go tomorrow with five drawings, a necklace, and the Foundling Table (now dubbed “Doorway to the Sun,” courtesy of Commentariat member Pat).

I’ll keep you posted.

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Heard some ominous news last week. I can’t yet talk about it; maybe by the end of this month. It’s not just ominous for me. It’ll clobber my income if the rumored Bad Thing comes to pass. But the effect on me is the least of it. It’s mad, bad, sad, and completely blindsiding.

Wish I could tell you more. I will. Just not right now. I’d like to get you all roused up about this thing so you could shake fists and write indignant letters and maybe keep it from coming to pass. Instead, I just have to bleed on you without even telling you what the wound is. Sorry.

Will change subject now.

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This is funny. If you follow such news you’ll remember that last week the publicists for the BBC series Downton Abbey released a very dignified, very rich, very 1920s-ish photograph of two of the main characters — apparently without noticing somebody’d left a very modern, undignified plastic water bottle on the mantel behind them. The incident became known as “Waterbottlegate.”

The cast of the show responds charmingly. I only wish they’d done it in full costume.

Now the same people who got excited about the erroneous water bottle in the first place are speculating that it might have just been a stunt — a lead in to the follow-up.

People have altogether too much time on their hands.

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The other thing I’ve been doing today is Organizing. Yes, the capital-O kind. I could tell you exactly how much I love this activity, but the words might get me fired from BHM.

I’ve acquired Stuff (also with capital letter). I’m not a big stuff person. I never end up with too many clothes or closets full or unworn shoes or extra cars or shelves sagging under thousands of unbearably cute tchotchkes. What I have is tools and materials. Saws and hammers, kaleidoscope mirrors, bargain doors I’ll install two years from now, art supplies, a spare window, beading supplies, drawers full of glues and epoxies, packing peanuts and bubble wrap, ammo and gun-cleaning kits. Useful stuff.

I can get pretty ruthless about throwing junk away, but there’s nothing here to get rid of. This is all useful. Alas, there’s no good, useful place to stash it.

I’m feeling the need to acquire more stuff — shelving and storage containers — to get ahead of the stuff I already have. This seems wrong. Just wrong.